


something real

by The_Eclectic_Bookworm



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-18 20:25:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13689189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/pseuds/The_Eclectic_Bookworm
Summary: More awful than the fact that Rupert wasn’t talking to her was the fact that Jenny had just apprehended Xander trying to blackmail Amy into casting a love spell on Cordelia.





	something real

More awful than the fact that Rupert wasn’t talking to her was the fact that Jenny had just apprehended Xander trying to blackmail Amy into casting a love spell on Cordelia. A _love spell,_ and when she tried to calmly explain to Xander why that was a very, very bad idea, Xander snapped, “And why am I taking advice from you when you broke Buffy and Angel up, huh?” which a) wasn’t even slightly true and b) was a low blow, even coming from a kid who had been about to enchant a girl into loving him just to break up with her. And _no,_ Xander, it didn’t count that it was Cordelia and Cordelia was supposedly the most awful human to walk the face of the earth.

Jenny was seething by the time she’d left the classroom, and even angrier when she remembered that she had to double back and give Amy a lecture about improper magic use as well. Xander had left the classroom by this point, and she could see him giving her a black look as he complained loudly to Buffy and Willow.

 _Fine,_ Jenny thought. _Be that way._ It was nice to have someone be mad at her for something at least slightly unreasonable. Rupert’s anger hurt more because it was justified; she _had_ lied to him, even if it was only a lie of omission, and she knew his anger stemmed from a very deep hurt. Xander was just being ridiculous.

“Amy,” she said, her voice coming out clipped and short. “You know you shouldn’t have negotiated with Xander. That isn’t even slightly okay.”

Amy ducked her head a little. “I didn’t want to get in trouble,” she mumbled.

Jenny took a deep breath, steadying herself. While Amy had made a few bad decisions, none of them were quite as iffy as Xander’s—or even her own. Those in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones, particularly not at over-stressed teenage girls. “I understand,” she said a bit more calmly. “I do. But what if something had gone wrong? What if the spell backfired and Cordelia hated Xander instead? What if you’d accidentally gotten everyone _but_ Cordelia to fall in love with Xander? You don’t want something like that on your conscience.”

“Are you going to tell Mrs. Beakman that I was cheating?” Amy asked miserably.

Jenny hesitated, then shook her head. “Consider this a get-out-of-jail-free card,” she said. “I remember what it was like to be in high school, and Rupert told me about that stuff with your mom last year. Just—don’t pull anything like that again, okay?”

Amy nodded, looking a little embarrassed. “I really am sorry,” she said.

Jenny suddenly felt very tired. “Me too,” she said, and waited until Amy had left the classroom to sit down at one of the desks, burying her head in her hands.

She could choose to _not_ try and bring this whole thing up to Rupert, maybe just let it blow over, but she really couldn’t do that kind of thing again without a sense of foreboding. The last time she’d “let something blow over,” it had ended with a dead body in a hotel room and bruising around her neck from Buffy’s Slayer-strength grip. Jenny didn’t want something like that to happen again.

But every time she’d tried to start a conversation with Rupert, or some sort of apology, he’d given her the cold shoulder without any hesitation. Jenny was trying to give him some space, sure—she _knew_ she was the one in the wrong, after all—but this kind of thing was getting really old, really fast, and she didn’t want to end up starting an argument that would damage their relationship beyond repair. He was way too important to her for that.

There were still some leftover Valentine’s Day decorations hanging up, lots of lace and hearts all over the walls and pasted to the classroom doors. It made Jenny want to throw something against a wall, but maybe that was the minimal sleep or the fact that she still had her Valentine’s Day gift for Rupert hidden away in her desk, wrapped as perfectly as she could manage, a little card on the top reading _I love you._

This was supposed to have been the first time she was spending Valentine’s Day with someone she loved. This wasn’t supposed to have been the Valentine’s Day from hell, complete with idiot teenagers and a vampire on the loose. Jenny debated getting up, decided she’d sit here for a few more minutes, remembered that she had class in a few more minutes—

She heard a rustling by the door, a soft, almost pained intake of breath. Humiliated at the thought of someone seeing her like this, Jenny’s head snapped up, and her eyes met Rupert’s.

For a still, silent moment, there was a horribly sad look in Rupert’s eyes, and he took half a step forward almost unconsciously. “Ms. Calendar,” he said finally, stiffly, and it was like a slap in the face.

Jenny exhaled, standing up. “We need to talk,” she said. “Please.”

Rupert pressed his lips together. “No,” he said finally, and turned, leaving the classroom.

 _Okay,_ said Jenny to herself, _calm down, don’t do anything stupid—_ “Well, at least you’re being _direct,_ ” she snapped, not really to anyone in particular, and hurried to follow him out. He wasn’t looking at her, _obviously_ not, and that hurt more than anything he could have said. “Rupert,” she persisted, falling into step with him as he entered the library, “this isn’t _about_ us, I want to talk to you about Xander.”

That got Rupert to turn around. “Xander,” he repeated skeptically, eyes very deliberately fixed on a point over Jenny’s shoulder.

“Yes, _Xander,_ ” said Jenny sharply, “and it wouldn’t _kill_ you to look at me when I’m talking to you, okay? I _get_ it. You don’t want anything to do with me. That’s—” Her voice caught. “It—” Furious at herself, she pressed a hand to her mouth.

Rupert’s mouth twisted. “You lied to me,” he said, “deliberately, and you placed my Slayer in jeopardy. I want _everything_ to do with Jenny Calendar, but I don’t know if our relationship was ever even anything _real_ to you.”

Jenny felt like she’d been punched in the stomach. Suddenly, she didn’t think she wanted to have a conversation with Rupert anymore; quietly, she turned to leave the library.

“Jenny—” said Rupert, a note of worry in his voice.

Even at the renewed use of her first name, Jenny couldn’t look at him. “Xander tried to blackmail Amy into a love spell,” she said, voice even, eyes on the library door. “Happy fucking Valentine’s Day, huh?” Without looking back, she left the library, letting the door swing loudly shut behind her. Her free period ended in two minutes, and she’d have to pull herself together before kids started showing up to class.

* * *

 

Jenny did an impressive job of keeping things together. Jenny had always done a pretty impressive job of keeping things together, all things considered, but the thing was that everything always fell apart in the end, which was, of course, what happened when she found herself crying quietly in her locked classroom after hours.

She didn’t like crying. Hated it, actually. Maybe it was because of the kind of family she’d grown up in, but crying meant weakness, and weakness meant something that someone could exploit and twist and hurt her with. And—damn if that wasn’t what loving Rupert felt like, all of a sudden, not something to be celebrated with cards and chocolates but something that just fucking _hurt._

The cursor blinked on her computer screen, reminding her why she was staying late in the first place. Jenny started in again on the program, a lump in her throat, and reminded herself that the weekend was in two days. Not that it mattered, anyway; she’d been throwing all her free time available into writing and rewriting code that might translate the old Latin into something she could actually use to help Angel.

The door rattled.

Jenny jumped, flinching, then steadied herself, picking up the cross she’d tucked into her desk drawer. She took a breath, then stepped up to the door, peering through the small window.

“Jenny?” said Rupert disbelievingly from the other side of the door.

“Jesus, Rupert, go _away,_ ” said Jenny furiously, going back to the computer.

“It’s _late,”_ said Rupert, sounding somewhat worried. “Nearly midnight. It isn’t safe to stay at school after hours, you know that—”

“You do it all the damn time,” said Jenny, reopening the book she’d been perusing. “And I have my own untrustworthy-liar projects to pursue, don’t I? Go the hell away.”

The door rattled again, and then Rupert stepped in, shutting it quietly behind him. “Lock’s fairly easy to pick,” he said at Jenny’s wide-eyed expression, then, “Listen, I—I want to talk to you.”

“And so you have,” said Jenny, turning back to the computer and attempting to focus her energy on a particularly tricky line of code. “And now you can leave. Maybe date someone who wants something _real_ next time, Rupert.”

“You don’t mean that,” said Rupert softly.

“Yeah?” Jenny gave up on coding and just started keysmashing; it wasn’t like Rupert would know the difference, and it made her feel better. “Maybe I do.”

Rupert was silent for a very long time. Then he said, “I should go,” and Jenny heard him open the door and quietly exit the classroom again.

Jenny felt really, really, angrily good about herself for about ten seconds before the hurt set in again. But—he deserved to hurt just as much as she did, maybe more, because she’d been so, so painfully _herself_ with him and he’d gone and thrown it in her face with a few simple words. This wasn’t something he could fix just by offering to have a civil conversation with her. This was something he would have to understand without her telling him—that she had never been anyone other than Jenny, not for him.

She was sitting in front of the computer, trying to sort through whatever the hell she was feeling, when the door burst open again. “No,” said Rupert fiercely. “All right? ­ _No._ I—whatever this is, you’re right about us needing to talk, because I know what you look like when you’ve been hurt and that’s what you look like now. I-It _hurt_ when you didn’t tell me anything, and it _frightened_ me to see Buffy throw you up against that desk, you’re so small and I have nightmares about something snapping you in half, sometimes, I just, I’ve never been in love before, not like this, not so completely, and—and you’re not worth losing. Whoever you are, you’re not worth losing, and you’re worth whatever it’s going to hurt when this kind of honesty has me losing you anyway, I, I—” He was shaking, visibly, holding onto the doorframe to keep himself from falling over.

“In love,” said Jenny in a small voice, testing out the words, and stood up from her chair, taking the two steps that would let her wind her arms around Rupert’s waist.

Rupert let out a shaky breath and pulled her close, pressing his face into her hair. “In love,” he agreed, almost crying. “Jenny, I—”

“My turn to talk,” said Jenny, raising her head and sort of half-colliding into an accidental kiss. She hadn’t _meant_ to kiss Rupert, but suddenly she _was_ kissing Rupert, and she hadn’t been this close to him in way too long to just pull away from kissing Rupert, but—but there was talking they needed to do. Serious, actual talking.

Jenny pulled away. Both of them were breathing hard, Rupert’s hands gripping Jenny’s shoulders as though she was the only thing keeping him stable. “I’m Jenny,” she said. “This is me. I’m bad at prioritizing, really shitty at it, and I didn’t think things through when I came here and fell in love.”

“Sometimes,” said Rupert softly, “I had trouble believing that—that you _could_ be real. I’ve loved people before, certainly, but—I don’t know how many of them have ever loved me quite as much.”

Jenny considered this, then kissed him, gentle and slow, trying to make up for however long she’d have to wait before kissing him again. “It’s a lot to ask,” she murmured, “but please trust me when I say that I love you.”

Rupert blinked, then smiled, dazed and sweet but not at all uncertain. It was an expression she hadn’t seen on his face before. “I love you,” he said, soft and unstuttering.

Jenny bit her lip, grinning. “Say it again,” she said, running a hand up his lapel.

Rupert drew in a breath, eyes fluttering shut as Jenny kissed his neck. “I love you,” he said again, voice catching, hands pressing hers to his chest, and Jenny stood on tiptoe to pull him down into another kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day!!! or angsty-happy valentine's day now that you've read this fic!! whichever floats ur boat


End file.
